How Voldemort Really Lost His Nose
by Ellerosa
Summary: The mystery is finally settled. During his childhood, Voldermort (aka Tom) was the victim of a grave accident that would change him and his face forever. I don't own Harry Potter or Voldemort's nose...


It was an icy winter's night the week after Christmas when the great blizzard struck England. Thick sheets of snowflakes encrusted the houses, streets and cars until the entire country lay stagnant in a quilt of snow, to the misfortune of the populous, including the young men trapped in the Riddle household. The four boys had been celebrating the happy occasion of Tom's birthday when the blizzard had struck, and Tom's mother had deemed it too dangerous to leave the house.

Presently the boys, known affectionately to each other as Tom, Freddy, Cyril and Pike – a much appreciated abbreviation for Patrick – occupied themselves with casting trivial spells upon Tom's kitten, Toad. Freddy, being the characteristically violence-obsessed component of the group, jerked his wand at the cat and sent it into the opposite wall. His face, which was often described to be 'mousy' what with his buckteeth and slightly protruding eyes, twisted into an expression of delight as the cat screeched its protests.

"I get the impression that Toad doesn't like being thrown into walls," Pike uttered unenthusiastically. He shifted his plump frame against the wall of Tom's bedroom, and planting his wand behind his ear. He was a passive child with a love of all things sweet and a natural aversion to all things sour.

"What does it matter? I'm bored as bollocks," Freddy huffed, aiming his wand at the cat once more. Tom and Cyril sighed – they both possessed a certain degree of maturity above the others that allowed them the dominance they exercised. They were arrogant characters, the two of them, but responsible in their magic and their distinguished roles within the small group. Tom, however, had recently developed an affinity for the dark arts, one that Cyril was rather perturbed by.

"Leave the damned cat alone," Tom snapped before Freddy could proceed to drag the cat around the room by its tail with a flick of his wand. The latter immediately lowered his wand and looked down in shame. Cyril, eager to appease the tangible tension that Tom's sharp words had provoked, raised his wand triumphantly in the air with a wide grin pasted across his face.

"Let's play a game!" he piped excitedly. Pike instantly perked up, eyes dancing to his comrades to gauge their reactions.

"I have no objection," Tom muttered haughtily, "as long as it involves magic and is remotely…_entertaining_."

Cyril shivered as Tom annunciated his last word, something sinister creeping into his usually apathetic tone. Freddy shrugged lazily, still pouting childishly from Tom's sharp reprimanding.

"Well," Cyril continued gaily, "since you're the picky one, why don't _you_ choose?" He leveled his mirthful gaze at Tom. Unfortunately for them, Tom's choice of game was not entirely ethical:

"Strip poker," he began, and hurried to quell the protests of his company. "But instead of stripping, we cast an invisibility spell on a part of the person's body.

Pike murmured his tentative approval, retrieving his wand from its perch behind his ear. Freddy, complying with his violent nature, smiled sadistically and nodded vigorously. Cyril, unconvinced at the morality of Tom's proposition, frowned disapprovingly.

"What if the spell backfires?"

Tom nudged his friend playfully on his shoulder, offering an arrogant grin to the other's doubtful frown. Cyril, though he emitted an air of arrogant authority, had always been the cautious and ethical one. With his unruly flaxen tresses and honest blue eyes, he was the image of perfection; quite contrary to Tom's own dark hair and deep blue eyes that earned him an ominous appearance.

"I've mastered this spell _and_ its remedy a thousand times already. Dumbledore himself supervised me! You, dear Cyril, cannot doubt me now."

And indeed Cyril could not. He sighed, defeated, and readied his wand as Tom conjured a pack of cards in his hands.

"Let us begin," Tom smiled…

Half and hour later…

The boys had learnt quickly the spell, and had relied on Tom to revoke its effects when it was needed. The remedial spell had proved too difficult and too troublesome for the others to recite. Presently, Tom – who was really very good at poker – hadn't lost a limb to the invisibility spell. The others, however, had not been so fortunate. Pike was reduced to only his head, his cards seeming to float in his unseen grasp before him. Freddy had lost his neck, one leg and a few fingers to the game, and was now bald. Cyril went without an arm and one foot, but was pleased at least that he had not lost too much in comparison to the other two. Tom had proven to be a ruthless opponent, except to Cyril (Freddy and Pike had accused him of favoritism), whom he had forged a silent pact with to gang up on the others.

"Eieci te invisibilitatem!" Cyril cast his wand at Freddy, sending the entirety of the latter's head into invisibility. Freddy groaned and threw down his cards in frustration; he was not at all good at poker, and was as sore a loser as could be.

"Shuffle the cards," Tom snickered, "it's your turn to act."

Reluctantly, Freddy collected the cards from the table and shuffled and distributed the hands tediously. Cyril, as the winner of the last round, established the bet. After each had called, they began. Cyril pulled three cards from his hand and placed them to his left. The others did the same, and gathered the discarded ones to their decks.

Pike's face reddened as he glanced over the cards Freddy had given him: _two aces_! Complete with his own, he now had three! Why would Freddy rid his hand of such valuable cards? He glanced around the group, and gauging the other's expressions, pushed his entire stash of chips into the center. Tom, Cyril and Freddy starred at him, aghast at his confidence, and what they assumed, great fortune. He hadn't dared raise the bet so high until now! Pike turned to regard Freddy suspiciously.

"You don't have a clue how to play, do you?"

Freddy muttered sheepishly that he hadn't the slightest knowledge about poker or how to play, to the great amusement of the other three. Pike grinned and let forth a hearty laugh. He'd have his revenge on Tom now that he had finally won a round. He gripped his wand and leveled it at Tom, who smiled smugly.

"Which part of me do you wish to make invisible?" Tom posed to the boy across from him. Pike pursed his lips thoughtfully, narrowing his eyes upon his victim. He aimed the tip of his wand straight at Tom's nose.

"Aeterna invisibilitatem!" he cried. Tom's eyes widened as he opened his mouth to shout for Pike to stop, but it was too late. Pike's wand jerked with a sudden burst of magic, and Tom's nose abruptly disappeared. But this time, Tom mourned, it was a permanent affliction.

"You idiot!" Tom howled, lurching forward to jab his finger into Pike's invisible chest. "_Aeterna_ invisibilitatem? Do you have any idea what you've just done?"

Pike shied away from the livid man before him; Tom's eyes burned with a fury that could frighten even a dragon! He timidly shook his head, and shrunk further back as Tom hurled a string of profanities, complete with the spit of harsh annunciation, towards him.

"Aeterna. Eternal! There _is_ no remedy. My nose is permanently invisible!"

Behind him, Cyril struggled to stifle the amusement the situation incited in him. It was an unfortunate turn of events, indeed, but the fact that a noseless Tom was shouting at a _head_ was much too comedic to ignore. Freddy, the headless and 'down-a-leg' body took refuge under Tom's bed as the latter thundered out discriminations that could put Hitler to shame. But Cyril's laughter, which had been successfully bridled until this point, finally erupted when Pike managed to utter two words.

"Oh," he squeaked sheepishly, "sorry…"


End file.
